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Authors: Hannah Howell

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BOOK: Highland Honor
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“That fight was near o'er when I decided to come and save your bonny skin.”

She scowled at him, watching very closely as he had a long, hearty drink of her wine. “Guy and I were doing well enough, although I thank you for your kind aid.” She cursed softly when he grinned, revealing that he did not believe her claim any more than she did herself. She and Guy had desperately needed his help, and she somewhat resented that.

“Ye find it verra hard to admit that ye are neck deep in the mire and sinking fast, dinnae ye?” he asked, still grinning.

“A vivid turn of phrase,” she murmured. “I have cared for myself for nearly a year with no more than an occasional assist from my family. I believe I can continue to survive.”

“Whate'er ye are running from, lass, is beginning to catch up with you. Aye, 'tis so close that it has taken the life of a friend and nearly taken that of your kinsmon. Has that happened ere now?”

Gisele sat down before the growing fire, snatched the wineskin from his hand, and took a large drink. “
Non
, that has not happened before. I am sorry for Charles, very sorry, for he was young and honorable, a boyhood friend of Guy's. Guy's wound has weakened him, but it will not kill him if properly cared for.”

“True, but I think ye will find that a difficult task.”

“I have some skill at healing.”

“I am sure ye do, as much skill as ye have at running away from and hiding from your enemies. But, how much skill do ye think ye have for doing both at the same time?” He smiled in sympathy when she paled and began to twist her delicate, long-fingered hands together in her lap. “Ye can no longer stay here, lass.”

“You killed the men who found me.”

“But were they the only ones DeVeau sent here? They may have sent word back to the ones hunting you, word that they had found their prey. More will come. And, I dinnae think ye need me to tell you that ye cannae run and hide verra weel if ye are dragging a wounded mon about with you. 'Twould endanger you, and may weel make the lad's wound a fatal one.”

Gisele closed her eyes and fought to calm herself. When she had first sought out Guy it had seemed such a clever plan. Who would think to look for a delicate, well-bred lady in the midst of an army, or think that she would risk dishonor by dressing as a boy? She could not believe that the DeVeaux had guessed her plans. They had simply searched out Guy hoping to find her or, at least, learn where she might have gone.

Sir Nigel was right. Soon the DeVeaux would know where she was and, worse, that Guy had helped her. She could no longer stay where she was, but she could not leave Guy behind, either. He needed her help, and now he also needed to hide from the revenge the DeVeau family was so avidly seeking. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at the man who had thrust himself into the midst of her troubles as if he had some right to be there.

“And what do you think I should do?” she asked.

Nigel leaned forward and looked directly into her eyes. “Run.”

“I cannot leave Guy behind at the mercy of his wounds and my enemies.”

“I ken it. Ye must get him to a safe place first. There must be someone who will shelter him even if they willnae shelter ye as weel.”

“Our cousin Maigrat. She lives but a short day's ride from here.”

“Then we shall take him there.”

“We?”

“Aye—we. I am offering ye my protection, wee Gisele.”

“Why?” She frowned when he laughed and shrugged his broad shoulders.

“I dinnae have a good answer for that,” he replied. “I can offer ye the protection ye need and mayhap a safe haven, as weel. Ere I stumbled upon your troubles, I had thoughts of returning home. Ye can come with me.”

“To Scotland?” she whispered, shocked at his suggestion yet seeing that it could be a very good plan.

“To Scotland, to my home. Even if the DeVeaux discover ye are with me and where ye have gone, ye will still be safer than ye are now and in this land. In Scotland the DeVeaux will be the strangers, unable to hide.”

Gisele wanted to accept his offer, but hesitated. She would be placing her life in the hands of a man she did not really know. It was madness, yet she was not sure she had much choice.

“Ye need to consider my offer,” he said, as he stood up. “I understand. I will tend to young Charles's body as I promised your cousin, and we can talk when I return.”

“Any of the French knights can tell you where he must go. I believe his family would prefer to bury him on their own lands.”

Nigel paused in the opening of the tent to look back at her. “There is one thing I ask of ye for my help, lass, and one thing only.”

“And what is that?”

“The truth.”

She cursed as he left and briefly buried her face in her hands. The truth, he said. That was his price for his much needed aid. Unfortunately, the truth could make him swiftly take back his offer. He might not believe her claim of innocence any more than so many others did.

And there was still the question of why he offered to risk his life for hers. He had no real answer for her, and many of the reasons she thought of were not kind. If he was just bored, how long would she hold his interest? Might she not soon find herself deserted in the midst of some strange land? He claimed he only wanted the truth in payment for his aid, but they would be alone together for weeks, perhaps months. He could be hoping to extract a higher payment. And what if he worked for the DeVeaux? Perhaps he was just a more subtle trap, one who would lure her to her enemies by making her trust him. That could even be a plan of his own devising, one thought up after he heard of the bounty offered for her. He had not killed her enemies to save her, but to keep all of the bounty for himself.

Gisele found that she detested even thinking such things about the handsome Scot. They had to be considered, however. He could be just what he seemed, a good, honorable man offering to help her for reasons even he could not articulate. But, just as she had no proof that he was her enemy, she had no proof that he was the friend and ally he claimed to be.

“I simply do not know what to do,” she said aloud, her voice weighted with despair.

“You must go with him,” came a weak, unsteady voice from behind her.

“Guy.” She hurried to his side and helped him take a drink of the wine. “I thought you were asleep.”


Non
. I suffered but a brief swoon from the pain.”

“I am sorry. I tried to be gentle.”

“That was no rebuke of your admirable skill, cousin. You do have a gentle touch, but even your clever hands cannot tend to a wound without causing some pain. That is the nature of a wound.”

“It is not a mortal wound, bless God. I am so sorry about Charles.”

“No need to be. You did not kill him.”

“I led his murderers here.”

“Cease this chastisement of yourself, cousin. None of this is your fault. If your family had heeded you from the beginning you would not have even married that bastard. You are innocent in all of this. Any knight worthy of his accolades would feel honorbound to help you.”

“Do you think that is what Sir Nigel Murray is doing?” She dampened a cloth and bathed the sweat from his face.

“I believe so. I told you, I have never heard any ill of the man. He is a mercenary, sells his sword to French lords, and has done so for many years, but most Scots within our ranks do the same. It is said that he chooses more carefully than most. He is said to have a taste for women and wine, yet I have watched him closely this last week and seen none of that. If that is true, then he knows when to cast such frivolity aside and stand firm to his duty, with a clear head and a steady hand.”

Gisele sighed, still uncertain yet beginning to see that she had little choice. “So, you believe I should do as he says—take you to Maigrat and go with him?”

“I do. All he asks is the truth.”

“That could easily cause him to change his mind.”

“Perhaps, but I think he will believe you. I am sorry, cousin, but now I think you have no choice but to play that game out. If he is not what he says, if he plays some treacherous trick, I trust that you will have the wit to smell it out before it costs you too dearly.”

Before Gisele could express her doubt about that, Sir Nigel returned. He looked strong, a good man to have at one's side, but she simply could not be sure. It angered her that the DeVeaux had pushed her so tightly into a corner that she had no choice but to gamble on the honor of a man she did not know.

“Charles will be taken to his family,” Nigel announced, watching the cousins closely.

“Thank you, Sir Murray,” Guy said. “I pray that you are the godsend you appear to be, for now my cousin and I will accept your offer of protection and help.”

“I had not agreed yet,” Gisele muttered, but then softly cursed as she met Guy's stern gaze. “But I do now.”

Nigel bit back a smile. “And do I get the boon I requested? The truth? I feel I deserve that much since 'tis clear that I will be placing my verra life at risk.”


Oui
, you do deserve that,” Gisele agreed. “And you will have it as soon as we get Guy safely to Maigrat's.”

“Gisele—” Guy began to protest.


Non
, that is how it must be.” She looked at Nigel. “It is an ugly tale I must tell you, Sir Murray. You may yet change your mind about helping me. I must see that Guy is safe before I risk that.”

“Fair enough. I will collect all of my belongings and tell all who need to ken it that we now leave this army. We will leave here at first light,” he added as he left.

“I feel certain that this is the right thing to do,” Guy said after a moment of weighted silence. “I wish you would look more confident.”

“And I dearly wish I could feel more confident,” Gisele said, then sighed and forced a smile for Guy. “All will be well.”

“You do not actually mean those words.”


Non
, yet I feel I should have more faith in them.”

“You confuse me.”

“I confuse myself. I have no reason to mistrust Sir Nigel, none at all, yet I am afraid. From the moment I fled my husband's lands I have, more or less, fended for myself. Even here, even seeking your protection, I still felt as if I led the way, as if I had some control over the path I walked. The moment I agreed with you and accepted Sir Murray's protection, I suddenly felt as if I had given that control away.”

Guy frowned and patted her hand in a weak attempt to soothe her. “I think you grow fanciful. I truly believe he is a good man.”

“I think that deep in my battered heart I feel the same, yet even that does not ease my fear.”

“Then perhaps we…”


Non
, there can be no
we
now. You must heal, and I must run again. The two are not compatible. I should set aside my worries, ones that seem born of no more than my own timid heart, and thank God that there is someone willing to help me.” She grimaced. “That is what I will set my mind to doing, and mayhap this feeling that I have just stepped off a very high cliff will pass.”

Three

Gisele slowly paced her cousin Maigrat's kitchen. They had made good time in their journey to her small
demanse
, but Guy had suffered. He had been pale and bathed in sweat by the time they had reached Maigrat's gates. His dire appearance had been all that had gotten them within the walls, Gisele was sure of it, and she found that a painful truth to face. There was no ignoring how they had been swiftly brought around to the rear, tersely ordered to hide their faces as they went, and left to stand in the kitchens only after Maigrat had cleared them of servants. Nor could she ignore the lack of any offer of refreshment. Maigrat had always prided herself on her courtesy. Gisele suspected that her cousin hoped they would be gone by the time she had put Guy abed, but Gisele stubbornly stayed where she was. She would not leave until she was sure Guy would be cared for.

She glanced at Nigel, who was sprawled in a chair at the well-scrubbed table, idly tapping his long fingers on the smooth surface. She felt ashamed for her cousin Maigrat. Although she knew nothing of the customs of Scotland she felt sure that he could see how poorly they were being treated. At least now he would believe her when she told him that they could not count on much help from her family. Gisele just prayed that he would believe everything else she said. She was not looking forward to telling him the whole sordid story, but that time was drawing near.

“I believe she will care for Guy,” Nigel said, watching Gisele closely and feeling sorry for the pain her family was so obviously causing her.

“I believe she will, too,” Gisele replied softly.

“But nay you.”


Non
, she will have none of me.” Gisele smiled crookedly, wishing she could hide her pain but knowing his sharp gaze had already seen it. “I think Maigrat hopes I will slip away ere she returns, but she will be forced to look upon me one more time. I must hear her swear that she will care for Guy.”

“Agreed. If ye can do so without choking on your pride, ye may also ask her for a few supplies.”

“Must I?”

“Does she have any reason to refuse ye even that meager aid?”

“None.”

“Then ask, and shame her into giving it. We need all we can gather, for there may not be many opportunities to gather supplies, either by our own hands or with coin.”

“Do you think we will be that hard pressed?”

He shrugged. “I cannae say, but 'tis wise to be prepared for a hard ride.”

She nodded and then tensed as Maigrat strode into the kitchen. The tight-lipped look on the older woman's round face conveyed her displeasure at finding Gisele still there better than any words could. Gisele did not want to ask the woman for anything, but forced herself to do as Nigel asked, and swallowed her pride.

“You will care for Guy and keep him safe?” she asked. “Do you swear to that, Maigrat?”

“Of course,” Maigrat snapped. “We fostered the boy for many years. He is as a son to me. You should never have pulled him into your troubles.”

“He is out of them now.”

“As is poor young Charles.” Maigrat nodded when Gisele paled. “You have developed a true skill at leaving dead men in your wake. And now you sink even deeper into shame. Look at you. No woman with honor in her soul would dress herself in such a scandalous manner.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Gisele saw Nigel rise to his feet, his handsome face taut with anger, and she quickly signaled him to remain silent. He could not protect her from everything, and should not be asked to. This was a family matter, and painful as it was it was not worth entangling him in it.

“Perhaps, cousin, I have decided that life is of more value to me than honor,” she said quietly. “I need a few supplies, and then I will leave you.”

“I have put myself at risk taking Guy in and allowing you to even step upon my lands, and yet you ask more of me?”

“I do. What matter if you give me a few scraps of food and a little wine? If the DeVeaux discover I was here they will think you did as much, anyway.”

Gisele stood silently as a softly cursing Maigrat stuffed a flour sack full of food, thrust it at her, and then gave Nigel two full wineskins. She had to fight back the urge to toss everything at the woman and walk out. What she had told Maigrat was true. She did think life was more important than honor. Certainly it had to be more important than pride.

“Is this a new fool you have ensnared to help you flee justice?” Maigrat asked.

“Let it lie, Nigel,” Gisele murmured when he took a step toward Maigrat. “It is not worth your trouble.” She looked at her cousin. “Some people actually pause to listen to my tale, and do not judge me solely on what the DeVeaux said. It is most sad that few of those can be found within my own family. Tell Guy I will let him know when I am safely away,” she added as she walked out of the kitchen.

Gisele said nothing as she and Nigel returned to their horses, sheltered their faces with the hoods of their cloaks, and rode away from her cousin's
demanse
. She was too choked with hurt and her own stung pride to say a word. It was almost dark by the time she pulled herself free of that emotional quagmire to look around. A moment later, Nigel signaled her to halt.

“We will camp here for the night,” he said, as he dismounted. “'Tis sheltered enough to hide us but not so enclosed that it could become a trap, and there is water near at hand.”

She nodded and dismounted. Silence reigned as they tended to their horses and built a fire. It was not until they had filled their bellies with Maigrat's bread and cheese that Gisele sensed Nigel had had enough of silence. She looked up from the fire she had been staring into to catch him moving closer to her. He smiled faintly and held out the wineskin.

“I think 'tis time ye told me the truth,” he said quietly as she drank.

“Which truth? Mine, or the one so many others choose to believe?” She grimaced and took another drink of wine as she heard the bitterness in her voice.

“Just tell me what ye see as the truth. I believe I have the wit to judge for myself.”

“I wed Lord DeVeau nearly a year and a half ago. Oh, I protested the marriage in every way I could, but none would heed me or help me. He was of good family, a powerful family with a heavy purse. Such an honored knight could not be as evil as the rumors said he was.”

“But ye believed the rumors.”

“There were too many rumors, too many stories of his evil, for them all to be lies.”

“So, ye were forced to the altar.”

She had barely begun her tale and yet he could already see the pain it caused her. Nigel was tempted to tell her it did not matter, that she did not have to continue, but he bit back the words. He had to know what he was involved in. It would be hard enough to keep her safe until they reached Scotland. It would only be more difficult if he did not know why she was running, and from whom.

“I was. On my wedding night I realized that the rumors were true.” She expelled a short, unsteady laugh. “The rumors had not even begun to reveal the beast that was my husband. I again turned to my family, but they shrugged aside my pleas and stories as the fancies of a new bride. My only salvation came in the fact that my husband soon grew bored with me. Oh, he still insisted on bedding his wife, on making me the kind of wife he thought he needed, but the times he sought me out grew less and less very quickly. I was to be the breeder of his heirs. Aside from that, if I kept quiet and out of his sight he paid little heed to me. There were other women to pursue.”

Nigel found himself wishing that DeVeau was still alive so that he might kill him. She made no clear accusations, talked of how she was treated in subtleties, but he knew all too well the brutality she must have endured. The lingering horror of it could still be heard in her soft, trembling voice. He put his arm around her shoulders and felt her tense, but when she did not pull away he continued to hold her.

“My marriage fell into a pattern. He would beat me, bed me, and then leave me be for a while so long as I did not intrude. Becoming a shadow was difficult for me.”

“Aye, I can imagine. Ye arenae the sort of woman who wishes to be so meek.”

“He made me want it. I continued to try to gain the help of my family and to believe I was starting to get them to listen to me. I fear I did not help my cause by occasionally wishing the man dead, even saying that if someone did not free me of this torment soon I would free myself.”

Gisele felt Nigel's arm tighten around her shoulders and fought the fear rising up within her, the fear she had learned in DeVeau's hands. Nigel was merely offering an innocent comfort. Lurking right beside the fear was a sense of safety, of comfort, and she struggled to grasp that and push the blind fear away. It did feel good to be held gently by such a strong, handsome man, and she refused to let DeVeau steal her ability to enjoy that.

“Did no one seek proof of what ye said? Look at your bruises?”

“I was too ashamed to show them much proof.”

“Ye had naught to be ashamed of.”

“Mayhap. I was not a sweet child, and had grown into a woman cursed with a quick and often sharp tongue. I believe they thought I was finally getting the discipline no one had given me before. There were insults and injuries I could not bring myself to speak of. Private injuries,” she added in a whisper. “As the sixth month of my marriage began I was girding myself to bear all to my family. I realize now that one thing which had kept me silent was a fear that even those insults and brutalities would not turn them to my side. Then someone took the decision out of my hands.”

“Your husband was killed.”


Oui
, murdered. My husband felt all women were his for the taking. He took a young maid, a local farmer's daughter. He brutalized her and left her near to death. The farmer could get no one to exact justice for this crime, so he and his family took justice into their own hands. They found my husband sprawled in a drunken stupor upon his bed and cut his throat, then mutilated him.”

“Mutilated him?”

Gisele blushed and stared into the fire. “They cut off his manhood and choked him with it. In truth, I think they did that first, then cut his throat. I found the body and there was a look upon his face that told me he did not die easily. For his crime, I think that is the punishment they would have exacted.”

“Aye, a horrible way to die but ye are right, it fits the crime. And the DeVeaux and your own family think ye did that?”

“Well, I fear I did threaten such gruesome things from time to time. They had already begun to watch me closely. I knew the moment I saw DeVeau lying there, I just knew, they would blame me. It may not have been wise but I ran, as swiftly as I could. I am certain some of the servants suffered for my escape, as the DeVeaux would have felt they had to have seen me leave. They did, and they did nothing to stop me. I ran straight to my family.”

“Only to find that they wouldnae help you.”

Gisele struggled to swallow her tears. That had been the greatest hurt of all, and she still felt the power of it even after so many months “They would not. They feared the scandal, questioned me, even spoke of holding me for the DeVeaux. I did not wait to see if they would hand me over yet again. I fled, and that has been the way I have lived for nearly a year.”

Although she wished she could compose herself enough to clear the tears from her eyes, Gisele looked up at Nigel. “I swear on all I hold dear, on Guy's life if you will, that I did not kill the man. I am innocent of the crime, but since so few of my own family believe me it is taking a long time to prove that.”

Nigel stared down into her upturned face, its delicate lines highlighted beautifully by the soft light of the fire. He knew it was possible that he was being influenced by her beauty, by how strongly she affected him, but he could not believe she had killed the man. And, he mused as he gently brushed a tear from her cheek, even if she had it had been justified. He was certain that Gisele had not told him the true depths of the injuries DeVeau had inflicted upon her, and might never do so.

“No mon has the right to treat a woman as he treated you,” Nigel said quietly.

“So, you believe that I am innocent.”

“I believe that DeVeau got exactly what he deserved.”

Gisele stared at him, captivated by the warmth in his dark, amber eyes. It felt dangerously good to be held so close to his warmth. He would help her. Some of her fears eased. When he softly kissed the mark the tear had left upon her cheek, she trembled. She knew she should move away, but could not bring herself to leave the haven of his arms. Then she frowned, wondering if she had been right, if Nigel thought to gain more than the truth as payment for his help.

“I have told you the truth as you asked,” she said.

“Aye, ye have.” He idly traced her small face with kisses, enjoying the feel of her soft skin beneath his lips but watchful for any sign of fear or rejection.

“And that was the only price you asked for helping me.”

“It was.”

“Then why do I begin to suspect that you seek more of me?”

“Because ye are a clever lass?”

She tensed slightly as he touched his lips to hers. They were soft, warm, and very inviting. Fear stirred within her, but so did curiosity. Since she had first set eyes upon him she had wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, had wondered if she could do so without being afraid. It was not wise, for he clearly sought to seduce her, might even think she was agreeing to share his bed in return for his protection, yet she could not bring herself to immediately and forcefully push him away.

“I need help and a strong sword arm, but I will not play the whore to gain those things.”

“I wasnae asking ye to.”

“You are trying to kiss me.”

“Oh, aye, that I am. I have made no secret of the fact that I think ye are a bonny lass. I but seek a wee taste of the lips I have coveted for a week.”

BOOK: Highland Honor
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